Winterfell's Lady
by redcandle
Summary: Catelyn arrives at Winterfell to begin her married life with Ned.


Winterfell was duly impressive, as befit its status as the ancient seat of the Starks. It was no Harrenhal, but it was massive all the same, with gray walls as high and thick as any she'd ever seen. Catelyn passed beneath the raised portcullis and entered the castle with trepidation. She was to live in this strange, cold place for the rest of her life. _All women feel such nervousness when they leave their father's home for their husband's. You will make this your home in no time._ She let no hint of her thoughts show, greeting the assembled castlefolk with a pleasant air and a smile, as if there were no place else she'd rather be.

Her lord husband strode forward to greet her and help her down from her horse. "My lady, welcome. I hope the journey was not too tiring." The smile he attempted to give her was badly forced.

"A little. It's good to be here at last," Catelyn replied, trying not to let her disappointment show. Ned had been solemn and unsmiling the two weeks they'd spent together, but that had been understandable under the circumstances. The war was done now and the dead were buried. She'd hoped he would be happier to see her. _I am a stranger to him still_, she reminded herself.

She took Robb from the nursemaid who'd traveled in the wagon with him. He woke, but fortunately he did not cry. Catelyn smiled as she looked down at his tiny face, where eyes like her own stared back at her. She had not ceased to be amazed by his perfection and by the intense love he provoked in her. He would win his father's heart immediately. "Your son, my lord," she said, presenting him to Ned.

Ned took the babe. Most men held babes gingerly and awkwardly, but Ned held his son like he belonged in his arms. "You did well, my lady. He is a fine boy."

Producing a son so quickly was an accomplishment few women could boast. Catelyn was proud, but not prideful enough to take all the credit. "We have been blessed by the gods."

"Yes," Ned agreed, looking at their son with such warmth that Catelyn felt perfectly happy. "We worship the old gods here but I would not expect you to abandon your new gods; I have commanded my men to build you a sept. Unfortunately it is not finished, but I hope it will please you when it is ready."

A sept raised where none had stood for all Winterfell's long history - for her. It was a grand gesture, and it gave Catelyn insight into her husband's nature. "I am already quite pleased, my lord. Thank you."

Instead of returning her smile, Ned looked like he had swallowed a bug. _Can he be shy? When I've already borne him a babe?_ As if sensing his father's distress, little Robb began to make loud, angry baby noises. Catelyn took him before it could become full blown wailing. "I don't use a wet nurse; I prefer to nurse him myself. I hope you don't mind?"

Ned shook his head, but he appeared shocked when she unlaced her bodice and helped Robb to attach himself to a nipple. Catelyn glanced at the crowd of servants and guards who'd gathered to welcome her and Robb, wondering if she was breaking some Northern code of conduct. No one else appeared to mind. It seemed that Ned was just a very private man. He had not forbid her, though, and she would not let her son go hungry because of his father's discomfort.

"It is bold of Robert to keep Jaime Lannister among his Kingsguard," she said, seeking to dispel the awkwardness that had settled over them.

Ned's face darkened. "Too bold. I pray I am wrong and it does not end as badly as I fear it will."

"His own sister will be Robert's queen; that should keep Jaime's loyalty."

"Perhaps. There is still the matter of honor. Jaime broke his oaths in the worse way a man can. He should be sent to the Night's Watch to redeem himself."

"I would like to visit the Night's Watch and see this Wall of yours one day."

Ned's mood lightened and he almost smiled. "We will go when the babe is older," he promised. "It is truly a marvel to behold."

When Robb had had enough milk to satisfy him, Catelyn handed him back to the nursemaid and took Ned's arm. He belatedly introduced her to Winterfell's people and one by one they came forward to bow or curtsy as Ned told her their names and what they did. She had heard of a few of them from Brandon, like the very old woman who had tended Stark children for generations. "I know you will be as dear to my children as you were to the ones before them," Catelyn told her.

Old Nan blinked at her through tears. "You can be sure of that, m'lady." And straight away she tottered off to see Robb and offer advice to his nursemaid.

"Would you prefer to rest or to see the castle now?" Ned asked.

All her weariness was gone. Catelyn was eager to acquaint herself with Winterfell. "I would like to see everything," she answered.

Ned showed her the blacksmith's and the brewer's and all those places common to every castle. He showed her the godswood with its dark forest of immense trees, and the ruins of the first keep built here many thousands of years ago. He told her the history of the place and explained about the hot springs beneath the land and the way his ancestors had channeled the water to run through the walls to heat the buildings.

"That was very clever of them."

He had been relaxed while they toured the castle but now that the tour had ended and they were in the Stark family quarters, Ned seemed uncomfortable again. He opened the door to the lady's chambers. "It has been prepared for you. I hope everything is to your liking."

"It's beautiful," Catelyn assured him. _Is he so unnerved because he wishes to take his husbandly rights and is not sure of his welcome?_ She touched his arm and looked up at him meaningfully. "I am very pleased to begin our life together properly, my lord."

"As am I, my lady." He cleared his throat. He looked like a man walking to his execution. "But first there is something I must tell you that will not please you. I dishonored you and myself with another woman."

Catelyn was surprised that he would tell her but not surprised at what he'd confessed. He'd been away for a year fighting a war and he had not known her enough to love her; it was understandable that he'd taken other bedmates.

"She bore me a son. I brought the babe here and I intend to raise him."

Bastards were raised by their mothers or fostered out to friends. A man did not raise his bastard in the home he shared with his wife. It was an unspeakable insult. "You cannot be serious!"

"I am, my lady, and I beg your pardon, but I ask you not to argue. I've made my decision and it is final. The child stays here."

"I will be the laughingstock of the realm," she told him icily.

"We cannot control what others think, but I pray you will believe me: I mean no insult to you." He took her hands; held them beseechingly. "I am fully committed to the vows I made to you when we wed, and I will do all I can to prevent you from suffering further dishonor."

She wanted to pull her hands free and slap him. _What greater dishonor can a wife suffer? Unless he brought his whore to live with us too?_ "What of your bastard's mother?"

"She does not matter now."

Catelyn did not want to begin her life here with an argument. She would let her lord husband think she'd acceded on the matter of his bastard for now. "Do you swear that this woman is far from here?"

"I swear," he said, his relief evident. "I swear on the old gods and on my honor that you need never think of her."

_Your honor is not worth much at the moment, my lord._ "I would like to rest now, if it please you."

"Yes, of course." He let go of her hands and stepped back awkwardly. "There is to be a feast in your honor this evening. Your maids will come to you when it is time."

"I am grateful for the honor," she said evenly.

The irony was not lost on Ned. He winced. Then he bowed and took his leave.

Catelyn sat by the window and looked out at Winterfell spread beneath her. This place was hers by law and custom. She would not allow a bastard to rob her of that. She stood up; she would not hide in her room. She would show them who she was: Lady Stark, the lady of Winterfell.


End file.
